


When Temptation Beckons

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Marvel
Genre: Deaf Character, Dubious Consent, Kissing, M/M, Manipulation, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-24 08:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2574983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short short thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clint lies on his back in bed, listening intently: he listens to absolutely nothing, because his hearing aids are neatly folded and set on the table beside his bed.

"Listening" is perhaps not the right word.

He lies there, and feels, feels the slight vibration from the subway when the train goes past, takes in the lingering scent of Chinese takeout, sees the slight flash of gold on the other side of his closed eyes when a lamp outside turns on and off again.

He waits, lying still.

And then he feels it, a sense of air shifting in the room, suddenly. The room feels cooler.

"I know you’re there." Clint says. "No hearing aids." He lies in place, and he is guilty, guilty, guilty. He’s a bad person, bad person, bad man.

He does it because he’s lonely, perhaps. Because he’s sad and pathetic, because Kate is gone and so is Lucky, because lying alone in bed is too hard for him these days.

The mattress declines slightly, and then he feels the thighs that move to straddle his own, heavy through the bedsheets. Hands splay possessively (oh, God) on his chest.

Clint opens his eyes, and Loki looks down at him, his expression almost impassive. One hand comes to Clint’s chin, cupping it in an almost tender fashion.

"Hello." say Loki’s lips; Clint takes a terrible pleasure in the way his lips curl intimately around the "o".

Clint should call SHIELD, should report Loki, should make this stop.

Just as he should have each night the past three weeks.

"May I rest here?" Clint reads from Loki’s lips, as he has for so many days now. The question is always the same, and Loki must be somehow testing him. How? Clint doesn’t know. But Loki’s body is somehow warm and cold at once, and he has come to wait for Loki’s body beside his own before sleeping.

Clint nods his head, and Loki tips to the side, curling against the left half of the archer’s body and laying his head on Clint’s arm.

Clint closes his eyes again, turns his head so that his lips touch the very top of Loki’s forehead.

How long will it go on for? What is he being tested for?

Clint doesn’t know.

All he knows is that he is weak, and lonely, and that he is a very bad man indeed.

Loki says something; Clint feels his lips move and his breath shift. Clint doesn’t know what he says - it doesn’t matter.

He says nothing: he doesn’t say things when Loki sleeps with him. He lowers his hand, curling it possessively against the Asgardian’s lower back.

Loki smiles in the dark, though Clint does not see it. “You’ve passed the test.” He whispers again against the other man’s neck, knowing he will not hear the words. “A hawk is a worthy bird to have in one’s possession.”

Clint shifts, and Loki delights in his desperate and badly placed trust. In a week or so, Loki will escalate their relationship.

Humans, he thinks. So easy to mould. Made to be ruled.


	2. Chapter 2

Clint lies on his side and listens for a few moments. He hears voices, dim and low and far away, and they are so distorted he cannot even make out for certain who is speaking, though one can figure deductively it’s Sam and Steve.

They move a lot, back and forth, with the lights on, and their shadows flicker over the crack of Clint’s door. Nat wouldn’t need the light on. Clint isn’t certain why Stark decided the four of them ought share a floor of Avengers tower, but he likes the arrangement all the same.

The shadows are suddenly still, lined up with each other: Sam and Steve are kissing. They do that a lot,these days.

Nat is pleased about it, so he’s heard.

A hand touches upon Clint’s shoulder, and he turns to lie on his back, looking up at Loki with an impassive expression on his face.

"You shouldn’t be here." Clint whispers, not really able to hear himself but more than able to feel the vibration in his throat and the air over his own teeth and tongue and lips. Loki should be dead at the least: he definitely oughtn't be in Clint’s bed again.

Loki doesn’t answer; his hand draws down the side of Clint’s face, his thumb cold on the flesh of Clint’s cheek. The archer feels his breath catch in his chest, and Loki smiles down at him.

It’s beautiful, Loki’s face. His skin is clear, his lips pink and pretty, his eyes shining blue-then-green in the light filtering from under Clint’s bedroom door.

The Asgardian leans down, down and down, until his lips are but an inch away from Clint’s own and oh, God, oh, God, is Loki going to-?

Loki’s lips are warm when they brush against his own, and Clint presses up and into it, even though he shouldn't and every fibre of his rational being is screaming at him that this is a bad, bad idea.

He pulls away from Clint, and Clint is left dizzied by it, the ghost of the other’s mouth lingering on his chapped lips.

He should have expected this. It’s been coming for so long, night after night, week after week, and Clint’s chest feels tight, his throat constricted.

  
“May I stay the night?” He reads the words on Loki’s lips, and he nods, but before he can lay down Clint catches him by the cheek and arches up to kiss him hard this time. He pushes into it, nips at Loki’s lips and feels the God’s moan against his mouth, but Loki doesn't let him control it for long.

Loki slowly takes over, slowly pushes further into the kiss and presses Clint back onto the bed. The embrace continues on, languid, slow and lingering; Clint feels hot all over, which is weird, ‘cause like, isn’t Loki Jötunn? Shouldn't he be cold?

Loki’s hands stroke over Clint’s chest, and then he drops to lie beside him again, his gaze moving over the other’s face thoughtfully.

Clint reads “You’re…” on Loki’s lips, but the second word is something indecipherable that looks bizarrely like the word “magnificent”, but that can’t be the correct reading.

He closes his eyes tightly to stop himself from thinking about it, turning onto his other side, and Loki’s body curls beautifully against his back like it always does, comforting in a way nothing else could possibly hope to be.

"Down the rabbit hole, Alice," Clint thinks to himself. "What could possibly go wrong?"

One of Loki’s hands slide forwards, curls possessively around Clint’s chest, and the archer exhales quietly, arching into Loki’s hands and body and self.

Loki says something that vibrates behind the shell of his right ear, but Clint doesn't know what the word is. He decides he doesn't want to, and does his best to sleep.


End file.
